CHAPTER FOUR: HELLO, MIA

IRIS

(Two years later)

“Where is it?” I groaned as I searched my carry-on for the umpteenth time on the verge of tears.

I was exhausted. I had been up since dawn, triple-checking my bags, confirming my flight details, and making sure that I had everything necessary for my journey home.

But now, as I stood in the middle of the Amsterdam airport. I could feel the frustration and irritation building slowly beneath my skin.

Because my passport was gone. Fucking missing.

I turned everything out of my suitcase and onto the floor, praying that maybe I’d lost it in my clothes or something. But it was no use. I’d checked a million times and it wasn’t in any of my bags.

I cursed under my breath, feeling my heart begin to race as panic crept in.

I’d already met the security officers, and they had directed me to the lost and found to see if anyone had turned it in, but no such luck.

I had no idea where I had even dropped it or when I had last seen it.

The authorities at the airport said there was nothing else they could do for me since the embassy was closed and would only open in a few hours. So until then, I would have to wait to get an emergency passport.

That was going to take several hours.

“Shit,” I cursed again. I had to get home. I hadn’t seen my daughter in three months.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my hand. My best friend, Megan, was requesting a video chat.

“Hey, why aren’t you here yet?” she asked without preamble the moment I answered.

“Funny story,” I said, trying to laugh it off and failing. “I lost my fucking passport. I can’t find it anywhere.”

“What?” Megan gaped at me. “How the hell did that happen? Where did you put it?”

I ran my hand down my face. “I don’t know, Meg, but I’m freaking out right now.”

“Well, did you go to the authorities? What have they said?”

“I have to wait until the embassy reopens in about six hours to get an emergency passport which will take another few hours.” I exhaled.

“Fuck,” Megan cursed. I heard a toddler coo in the background and my heart warmed.

“Hey, not in front of my daughter,” I playfully scolded.

My daughter, Amethyst, had been in Megan’s care for the three months that I was away. I was grateful to Megan for being there whenever I needed her. She’d been my backbone since we met over a year ago when I was pregnant.

Megan snorted. “As if she can understand me.” She walked out of camera range for a few seconds, and when she came back, she was with my daughter.

My baby girl.

The moment she spotted me, she started speaking gibberish, her grey eyes lighting up.

I smiled back at her, marveling like I always did, about how much she resembled her father.

“She misses you,” Megan said, grinning at me.

“I know,” was my response.

A few minutes later, we ended the call on the agreement that I would at least return to the hotel to rest for a few hours or at least until the embassy opened.

Exhaustion wearing me out, I headed towards the bathroom to freshen up a bit before leaving.

I only hoped that the authorities would let me leave.

I adjusted one of my bags on my shoulder, frustrated that it kept slipping.

“I don’t fucking need this right n—”

I barely completed my sentence before I slammed into a solid chest.

Strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me before I could fall. “You alright?”

The voice was deep and rich—not as rich as the quality of the suit that the owner was wearing, though. I opened my mouth to apologize, but then I looked up and the apology froze on my tongue.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an Armani suit that was tailored to perfection. The shadow of a stubble lined his sharp jaw. And those grey eyes, those familiar grey eyes studied me with an intensity that made my heart race.

Memories of me on my knees and his hand gripping my throat assaulted me.

Before me was someone whom I never thought I would see again. The father of my child.

“I–yeah. I’m fine,” I stuttered, stepping back.

He let go, but his gaze didn't waver. My hand tightened around the handle of my suitcase as I sought escape. He was the last person I wanted to see. I didn't live my life on the low for the past two years just for my cover to be blown.

But apparently, my cover wasn’t blown, because the next words he spoke took me aback.

“You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”

My stomach sank. He didn’t remember me. Of course, he didn't. Why would he?

“Um, no,” I replied. “I don’t believe so.” The lie burned like acid on my tongue. I continued, “If you’ll excuse me.”

I proceeded to walk past him, walking into the bathroom and heading straight for the sinks.

Was I that unforgettable?

I heaved a sigh. Men just continued to make me feel small.

But then again, it was a one-night stand, and maybe it was for the best that he didn't remember me. He didn't owe me anything.

And he didn't have to know about Amethyst.

Grabbing the bag that contained my toiletries, I began to search for my tampons. I’d felt my period coming so I needed to change.

But, like my passport, my tampons had gone missing.

“It never fucking ends!” I nearly screeched. I knew I saw them only a few minutes ago.

I decided to retrace my steps, walking out of the bathroom. But I halted in my tracks when I saw the same man from earlier leaning against the wall.

And in his hands was my blue box of tampons.

“Hello, Mia,” the stranger said, grinning at me with the most perfect teeth I had ever seen on a human being.

I was fucking doomed.